


Mirror

by GeorginoschkaVincen



Category: One Piece
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 17:32:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3177693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeorginoschkaVincen/pseuds/GeorginoschkaVincen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He looks into the mirror and all he sees is his brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> A little idea about Doflamingo’s hair I felt like writing down

He looks into the mirror and all he sees is his brother.  
The hair, golden and wavy,is framing his elegant face.  
It looks like the sun,his hair, bright and soft, like gold.  
It's the most beautiful hair one could wish for.  
Rocinante's hair looked just the same.  
  
He looks into the mirror and all he thinks of his how much they look alike.  
They do look alike. He never thought they did, but they do.  
His eyes are missmatched,though, one looking more dead than the other. They are golden,like his hair, not blue like the sky, not like Rocinantes.  
They are cold, his eyes, even colder now, after everything that has happened.  
Rocinante's eyes were warm, so much warmer than his own.  
But they do look alike.  
Like brothers.  
Almost like the same person.  
Take away the make up, take off the glasses, you won't be able to tell the difference.  
  
He looks into the mirror, and he wants to smash it.  
He doesn't want to see his brother because his brother is dead.  
His brother has been a liar, and his death has been the only punishment to fit his crime.  
He looks into the mirror and tries not to scream at the reflection.  
Liar, liar,liar!  
Does he mean his brother,or are the words directed at himself?  
  
He hates what he sees in the mirror.  
He hates what he sees every morning after getting up, every morning before pushing his stubborn hair up so it won't look like the golden mess his brother used to let grow on his head.  
  
He hates how it reminds him of the way Rocinante's hair has been all the time, messy and wavy and too long. It has always been  too long, hanging into his eyes, hidden underneath the hat, never combed and always kind of alive on its own.  
It has always been so very soft to touch.  
  
His brother is dead, his brother is not supposed to look at him from inside the mirror, judging him, reminding him every day that he is wrong,that his actions are not justified, that he is cruel even.  
  
He doesn't need a daily reminder, he doesn't want one.  
He doesn't want to see his brother, never again.  
  
There has been no brother, never, never has there been anyone but himself.  
  
It's early in the morning, the sun is bright already, and he looks into the mirror and knows what he has to do.  
He doesn't hesitate as he reaches for the scissors, doesn't look anywhere else but the image in front of him, his brother, who is watching him quietly.  
  
He cuts it off, cuts and cuts because he wants it gone.  
He can see the image, how his brother watches and watches and doesn't say a word while he chops off the hair, strand for strand for strand.  
The anger is great,and his hands are shaking, but he does not stop, doesn't even stop as it knocks at his door, and doesn't stop as the person enteres.  
  
Not a word is spoken for a while, and Doflamingo doesn't realize what there is a hand on his shoulder until Vergo speaks up.  
  
"That looks horrible. Let me fix that."  
  
Doflamingo knows it does look horrible, too short here and there, other parts too long still.  
He doesn't argue.  
Not this time.  
  
He sits down in front of the mirror and watches quietly while his brother stares back at him, judging him quietly as the hair gets shorter and shorter.  
  
Vergo doesn't question his actions. It's one thing that Doflamingo appreciates so much about him. He never questions any of Doflamingo's actions, he only silently agrees.  
Still, a part of Doflamingo feels the need to explain himself.  
  
"It will be too hot in Dressrosa." He says, calmly. His voice does not betray him, and if it does than Vergo keeps quiet about it. "Short hair is easier to handle."  
  
"It sure is." Vergo agrees quietly.  
  
He has been here for a day now, telling the Marines his sister got sick.  
Doflamingo is glad that he is here now, but he doesn't say it.  
He doesn't need to, Vergo knows it already.  
  
His hair is fixed soon, and all Doflamingo sees in the mirror is his own reflection now.  
His brother is gone, will be gone forever, Doflamingo will make sure that it will stay that way.  
  
He doesn't feel better, but it is a start.  
  
He stands up, but before he can go anywhere Vergo hands him the scissors.  
Doflamingo opens his mouth, but Vergo speaks first.  
  
"I have to get back soon." he says, his voice as calm as ever. " My hair has troubled me the past few months, it is not suited for the job. I think it's time for a change."  
  
Doflamingo looks at the scissors, but doesn't take them.  
  
"You always said you like your hair." He says, looking up at Vergo again. It sounds a bit half-hearted.  
  
"So did you." The other replies.  
  
"Yes. So did I." Doflamingo takes the scissors.  
  
" It's too hot for long hair anyway."


End file.
